The Ivy League

The Ivy League Part 32

Disclaimer: the lines, scene descriptions and music mentioned are all a part of Walt Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I do not claim these lines as my own, they're just repeated by the characters during their play.

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Nate looked over at me and winked. I made a face at him. Ms. Williamson cleared her throat.

           “Are we done here, kids?” she asked peevishly, and Nate and I whipped around to face her.

           “Yes, miss,” we both mumbled.

           “All right,” she said, peering at us sternly over the edge of her tattered script. “Please let’s pick it up from scene three. Esmeralda,” she addressed me, and I heaved a patient sigh.

She never called me by my real name, but rather ‘Esmeralda this,’ or ‘Esmeralda that.’ I don’t think she even remembered my real name anymore.

           But I must say, I enjoyed the pained look on Nate’s face every time she called him ‘Phoebus’ since that was the soldier’s name. Though it was just plain awkward calling Kyle ‘Quasimodo’ and Mark certainly could be evil enough to fit the name ‘Lord Frollo.’

           “Esmeralda?” she asked me now, and I jolted back to reality. “Are you listening?”

           “Is it possible to do anything else?” I snapped back. Ms. Williamson didn’t pay attention to me.

           “I don’t want to see the entire gypsy dance, but you can pick it up halfway, all right? You’re a gypsy girl, earning some money by your performance at the Festival of Fools. Phoebus here,” she gestured at a scowling Nate, “sees you for the second time, and Frollo,” Mark grinned at me, “is consumed by lust as he sees you dancing. All right! Go!” she shouted, and I dragged myself to the center of the stage where a fake podium was erected. The best part about this stupid dance was that there was a trapdoor that I got to fall through. It always freaked Nate out.

           “Halfway!” Williamson reminded me, and I got into position, tambourine in hand and scarf hanging off my exposed shoulders. The familiar, lyrical flute music started from the halfway-point, and I began the steps.

           It was a seductive dance, no doubt about it. The skirt twirled around my ankles as my hips swayed, and my arms were extended above my head, beating the tambourine. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nate look at me admiringly, and Mark kept glancing uncomfortably at Grace in the audience. Nate and Mark weren’t the only Leaguers checking me out, though.

           Eventually, the dance reached its peak as I sank into the splits, cleavage quite ‘out there’ and it was the cue to Mark’s line.

           “Look at that disgusting display!” he said quite emphatically, relieved to show Grace he wasn’t really enjoying this.

           “Yes, sir!” Nate responded immediately, lifting his helmet’s visor for a better look and grinning seductively at me.

           I continued to dance, blushing at their prolonged attention. When I am finished, the hunchback – Kyle – climbs the podium where he ends up being mocked and tied up by the crowd. Esmeralda’s inner sense of justice makes me completely insult Frollo. Mark smiled politely at me the whole time.

“You mistreat this poor boy the same way you mistreat my people! You speak of justice, yet you are cruel to those most in need of your help!”

“Silence!” roared Mark-as-Frollo.